


Direction

by millionstar



Category: Muse
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, RPF, Roleplay, Shaving, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:05:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1310860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionstar/pseuds/millionstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a porny thing.  I wanted to revisit the Matt and Dom from the <a href="http://millionstar.livejournal.com/tag/fic%3A%20faux%20punk%20fatigues">Faux Punk Fatigues</a> universe, so here we are.</p>
<p>Thank you to dolce for support as always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Direction

We've been doing this for so long now that nothing should surprise me anymore, and yet, somehow I am completely spellbound by what I am looking at right now.

I'm not complaining, though, let me be clear on that.

Matthew and I have an... unorthodox relationship, to say the least.  It's been ten months now since we first met, ten months since he became my boss at the newspaper we both work for.  At first, a part of me had wondered if, after realizing precisely who I was, Matthew would simply cast me aside, or grow bored with me.  After all, he could have anyone he wanted, even if he did prefer to turn tricks after hours.  In the end, though, it turned out that he wanted _me_.  We became inseparable after the work day ended.

We share an unorthodox relationship, that began in the most unorthodox of manners, and as a nod to that fact, we still take one night a week (somehow, Thursday became the designated day) to pretend we are still ensconced in those same roles.  Some nights we meet in an filthy, dank alley, the potential of being discovered heightening the intensity of our union.  Then, some others, I pick him up and we simply use the backseat of mine or Matthew's car.  And on some nights, like tonight, I will reserve a hotel room and email Matthew precise and explicit instructions on what I expect to find when I arrive.

You wouldn't believe how easy it is for us to fall back into the role of slut and customer.

As I walked calmly through the lobby of the admittedly posh (I'm treating us this time) hotel a few minutes ago I smiled to myself.  Upon turning into the lift I shared that smile with a young lady who made no secret of the fact that she was checking me out.  I wonder what she would say if she could see me right now.

But, where was I... oh yes, what is

right

before

me.

I'm exceedingly pleased, for, he's been a very good whore, so far.

Every bit of instruction I have given him has been obeyed fully, in wardrobe and preparation.  It would seem that he approves wholeheartedly of my intent for tonight.

Matthew is resting casually on the cream colored settee, one arm draped along the back and the other holding onto a glass of chilled champagne, which he sips from delicately as we make eye contact.

He does not speak.

He has been instructed not to.

The stilettos are black as night, as are the stockings he's wearing, fish netted though they may be.  He crosses and uncrosses his legs, twice, as if to showcase his legs fully.  The very act makes my dick twitch in my trousers, so I lock the door to our room and toss my jacket aside as I creep closer.

Black silk meets ivory skin, in a pronounced and precise contrast, with the garters that are hugging his upper thighs so perfectly.  Thick hair, as dark as night, is spiked perfectly.  Kohl lines his eyes in a subtle yet effective manner.   But, it's what I see4  attached to the garters that has me palming myself with a barely stifled moan.

Ever since I first saw them, I've been captivated by the black leather braces.

It had been a random day, or rather, the beginning of a random workday.  I had walked into his office just as Matthew had shrugged out of his suit jacket casually, and I nearly came in my pants like a schoolboy at the way the black braces clung to his white dress shirt.  From that moment on I've been obsessed with them, well, with the way he looks in them.

To that end, you should see the way he looks in them tonight.  Those nipples, barely concealed by two strips of leather, surrounded by soft alabaster skin, well, it's really no wonder my hand is between my legs.

The presence of the braces is but one critical requirement for what I have planned; the other stipulation has been met in the presence of the items that have been carefully arranged on a table next to the settee.  I roll up my sleeves as I test the temperature of the water in the bowl, which is hot to the touch.  The razor is an antique, from Matthew's own collection, and it is sharp enough for what I require it to do tonight.

I can't see any point in delaying, so I sink to my knees in front of him and sigh to myself as I stare at Matthew, exposed and decorated so completely before me like this.  He's already hard, his dick straining as it rests against his stomach, his balls just as invitingly plump, nestled against dark hair.

Obediently, Matthew spreads his legs, hooking one behind my back, the tip of the stiletto digging into my spine.  He looks into my eyes as I delicately spread the shaving cream around the base of his erection, still not speaking.  I can see the mischief in his eyes, though, for they positively sparkle with mirth as he takes yet another small sip of the champagne, licking his lips afterward.

I nibble his inner thigh delicately, twice, then kiss the spot gently as I pick up the razor.

I move the blade with care, taking care not to hurt him as I delicately remove the hair that frames his arousal.  It's painstakingly slow work, but that's part of the kink, isn't it?  Every now and then I lean down and lick his balls, eliciting a heady sigh from Matthew.  I look up and see the curve of his arm, in particular his exposed underarm, and have to pause to squeeze my dickhead through my own trousers for a moment.  It feels so good that I see fleeting stars as I close my eyes, but I remember myself and open them with a gasp, rinsing the razor blade in the bowl of water.

Unable to resist, I press a fleeting kiss to his now leaking slit, Matthew moaning softly above me.

His eyes never leave my own as I set back into my work.  In shaving the remaining patch of hair away, I discover a birthmark, just to the right of his balls.  I want nothing more than to press kisses and deliver filthy bites to it for the rest of my natural life.  It's just one more thing about Matthew Bellamy that serves to captivate me.

Matthew's big.  He's not comically, porn-star large, but he's certainly well-endowed. Even still, somehow now that he's been shaved clean he looks even larger.  He squirms momentarily, his hips arching upward ever so slightly.  I toss the razor aside and admire my work, my fingertips soothing the skin between his legs gently.  The heel of the stiletto bites into my back in an unspoken message to fucking do something, so I lean in and wrap my lips around him properly, finally.

I love sucking dick.  I mean, I have a lot of talents in life, but I'd put dicksucking right up there with copy editing, if you want the truth.

I know this length so intimately.  Every slight ridge and every vein have been mapped out by my tongue a hundred times over.  I've cataloged what he likes and I intend to see that he gets it tonight.  He moans louder as my head moves at a smooth pace between his legs, relishing just how hot and heavy his dick feels on my tongue.  After a few minutes of teasing him, I lift off and look into his eyes and before I can react he dumps the remnants of champagne between his legs, his head falling back with a blissful sigh as the cool liquid coats his erection.  The sexy smirk reappears as he continues to pant and squirm above me.

Part of this action is about control on Matthew's part, for this was not included in the script I had planned for tonight, but I am content to allow it.

It makes him that much more delicious, actually.

I swallow him down again, sucking with an urgency I'd not yet indulged in.  When I glance up for a moment I see Matthew, one hand rubbing and pulling at his left nipple, the black leather brace shrugged aside as he arches his back, mouth open in ecstasy.  His other hand latches onto my hair as his hips begin to move in earnest, seeking more, always more _frictionheatsuction_.

The sounds that he makes are filthy, and utterly divine.  They spur me on, even now, as my fingers tease his balls while he fucks my face.  I can tell that he's close so I am prepared when he comes, his thighs trembling with the effort.

I take every single drop of what he has to offer, struggling to breathe through his aftershocks.  I look up into wide, blue eyes as I lift off and spit every bit of his release onto the settee.  Matthew, still gasping for air, shoots me a feral grin, reaching out to swirl one of his fingers through the decadent mess.  I reach for the braces, one of them breaking free from his body with a snap as I capture his lips for a deep, wet kiss or five.

What comes next happens in a blur, yet not so fast that I don't have time to appreciate the fact that he's continuing to follow my instructions so perfectly.  I barely have time to stand and push the trousers down my legs before he spins me around.  I brace myself against the small table and present my arse to him, my legs spread, my hand tugging on my dick.

Matthew traces my entrance with one fingertip, teasing me for what seems like an eternity.  Eventually he presses his mouth to me, licking against me but not quite into me yet; the anticipation is so blinding that I clutch the braces (which are still in my other hand) so hard that the leather cuts into my skin.  He squeezes my arse, kneads it, while occasionally licking at and kissing me in my most private of places.  It's a sweet torture, one that is intensified when he slides one finger inside, licking the spot where it is stretching me so deliciously.  He delivers a small slap to one of my cheeks, then removes his finger.  With a deliberate, moist lick to my sack, he drags his tongue up my body and parts my cheeks so he can finally give me the tongue-fucking that I'm craving so badly.

Christ.  He's _so_ good at it.

All I can do is continue to wank myself mercilessly as Matthew licks my core over and over and over and over like a man possessed.  He's masterful; mixing licks deep inside me with teasing licks around my rim - either way, he's turned me into a quivering, sweating, groaning, fucked-up mess in mere minutes.

It doesn't take long.

I shoot all over the table, cursing through my orgasm as I watch it splash onto the razor and into the bowl of water.  Matthew is still licking me, his tongue deep inside me as I empty my load in what seems like a never ending wave of toe-curling bliss.  It's only when Matthew comes up for air that I turn blindly and fall into the settee.  I am dimly aware of him pressing a kiss to my hair.

We are, no doubt, a sight, sprawled out on opposite ends of an expensive hotel settee that is littered in the remnants of spunk, sweat, and champagne.

I am still clutching the broken black leather braces in one hand as we fall asleep.


End file.
